"How did they let you in?" Matthew's voice cut through her excitement like a knife. His smug tone made her steps falter.
She turned slightly, just enough to see him walking toward her, arms crossed, his expression dripping with disbelief. She had almost forgotten he existed. Almost.
Then he turned to the stern woman at the registry table.
"She is not a student here," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. His words echoed off the stone walls. "There must have been some mistake. She doesn't even know how to use her mana."
Her fists clenched in anger.
All around us, students stopped. Whispers began to float through the crowd like ripples in a pond. Curious gazes. Judging stares. Some were amused. Others just watched with vague interest, but every single one of them heard him.
She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks—not from embarrassment, but rage. Her fingers twitched, shewanted to show him just how much of a control she has on her mana.
Don't, she told herself. Not here. Not yet.
"Matthew," she said, turning around slowly to face him, her glare cutting through the air like a blade, "I am here because I passed the exams. I earned my place at Astral Academy just like every other student here. So, stop creating a spectacle—you're only embarrassing yourself."
Murmurs rippled through the watching crowd. But Matthew, never one to back down, took a step closer, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Did you buy your way in with your father's connections?" he sneered, voice laced with venom. "No way someone like you made it in without help."
The audacity of his words stunned her for a second—but only a second.
A surge of anger flooded through her, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she met his gaze squarely, her voice calm, sharp, and clear enough for everyone to hear.
"Unless that's how you got in, I doubt they would just let anyone through the gates of this academy," she said coolly. "With their reputation and prestige, it's shameful that you'd even suggest such a thing."
A few students gasped. Some even laughed.
Matthew's expression faltered—his pride visibly bruised.
Before Matthew could open his mouth to bark another petty accusation, the lady behind the desk moved with surprising speed, her robes swishing as she appeared right between us. Her expression was unreadable, but her sharp eyes pinned Matthew in place like a bug under glass.
"Matthew Thorne," she said, her voice icy calm but packed with authority that made even the murmuring crowd fall silent, "you've created quite a spectacle this morning—and worse, you've insulted the integrity of the academy in the process."
Matthew opened his mouth, maybe to defend himself or to twist his words into an excuse, but she lifted her hand sharply, silencing him before he could get a word out.
"This sort of behavior could warrant disciplinary action. I suggest you remember where you are."
She pulled up a sleek, floating pad from her side, the glow of magic running across the surface as she tapped a few keys. Her eyes scanned the list, and then her gaze returned to me.
"And from what I can see," she said, turning the screen slightly toward Matthew—not enough for him to read it, but enough to make him flinch—"Kayla Evern is one of the top scorers in this year's entrance exam."
"I suggest you refrain from making scenes in the future, Mr. Thorne," she continued, her voice sharper now, "as it disturbs the peaceful learning environment we strive to maintain. And next time, you may not be let off with just a warning."
Matthew looked like he'd just swallowed a rock, jaw clenched, lips pressed into a thin line.
Kayla offered him a sweet smile, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in her eyes, then turned toward the stairs again.
The crowd slowly dispersed, whispers still trailing behind her, but she didn't care what they said. Let them talk. Let them wonder.